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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032736">A Question of Capabilities</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Wahoo/pseuds/Dr_Wahoo'>Dr_Wahoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe — 1920s, Alternate Universe — Mob, Angst, Cops &amp; Mobs AU, Decepticons as a Criminal Organization, Family Drama, Flashbacks, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Sibling Relationship, Starscream &amp; Clones as Siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:33:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Wahoo/pseuds/Dr_Wahoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 1920, and Skywarp is an anxious law student with a family of criminal siblings. He’s also currently estranged from them — well, almost all of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Skywarp &amp; Slipstream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Question of Capabilities</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place in @pastelpaperplanes’ Cops &amp; Mobs AU! You can find more information and incredible artwork for this AU on their blog (https://pastelpaperplanes.tumblr.com). </p>
<p>The particular posts that inspired this one-shot are here (https://pastelpaperplanes.tumblr.com/tagged/skywarp-just-seemed-too-sweet-to-be-in-the-mob-%3A%28%28%28) and here (https://pastelpaperplanes.tumblr.com/tagged/yeah-basically-all-the-starscream-clones-are-siblings). </p>
<p>For those new to this AU, it takes place sometime in the 1920s. The Decepticons are one of the largest organized crime rings in the city. Starscream is the second-highest ranking member, and all of his siblings are involved with the mob as well... except for Skywarp. He’s the only one who decided not to join and study law instead. (Well, legitimately. Starscream got his law degree through loopholes.) As per Pastel’s lovely art, all of the characters have soft bodies and the same helm designs as their canon counterparts. That’s why I’ve written them as having fingers and hands as well as parts such as optics.</p>
<p>Thank you to Pastel for the permission to write this one-shot! I hope you and everyone else enjoys it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp hurried down the street, hugging textbooks to his chest. His satchel bounced at his side he walked. Each thwack of the satchel against his thigh rustled the papers inside. He prayed it hadn’t broken his pen, but there was no time to check. Not with two papers to finish, an exam looming and his first deadline for the thesis, <em>oh god the thesis—</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          <em>Stop!</em> he thought over the ache in his helm. <em>This is fine! I can do this, okay? I’ll just be a little busy tonight... and tomorrow... and the day after that...</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp would’ve whimpered if he weren’t so out of breath.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          He weaved around passerby, panting. Flapper dresses and tuxedos swept by him, along with the occasional flash of sequins. He heard people whisper the names of nightclubs and speakeasies as he brushed past. That, and the sun sinking behind buildings heralded the onset of twilight. His feet quickened their pace over the sidewalk.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          The sky bled red and gold when he reached his apartment building. He burst inside and climbed the stairs two steps at a time. Seeing his door, he fumbled one-handed in a pocket for his keys—</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>
      <em>          Wait. It’s... it’s already open?</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          His door was ajar by the slightest crack. Skywarp’s breath caught. <em>I thought I locked it when I left this morning! I swear I did! How could I forget something so simple? Unless — unless I didn’t forget...</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          A floorboard creaked. Not in the hall, but behind the door.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          <em>...and somebody broke in.</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          He flattened himself against the wall. Shaky hands lowered his textbooks to the floor. His mind wailed a litany of <em>why me, why me?!</em> The possible answer to that question worsened the nervous churning in his stomach.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          <em>No, don’t think about that!</em> he told himself. <em>Especially not the family’s business. Focus, Skywarp. Focus! Assess the situation!</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          His feet inched over the carpet, creeping closer to the door. Shoulders trembling, he squeezed his optics shut. <em>I’m going to look in five, four, three, t-two—</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          The door banged wide open. Skywarp startled so hard he fell over, screaming.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Oh, for — ‘Warp. ‘Warp! Look at me!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “H-huh...?” He peeked out between his fingers.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream leaned in his doorframe, peering out from under the brim of her fedora. She wore her usual violet jazz suit, pale blue tie and sardonic smirk. “Still as jumpy as ever, aren’t you.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “Wh— why were you in — wait, <em>how</em> were you in my apartment?!” Skywarp sputtered, goggling at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “What does it look like? I picked the lock.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          He buried his face in his hands again. “<em>Slipstream</em>—”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          She shrugged. “I got bored waiting for you to let me in, so I did it myself. You should know me by now, ‘Warp.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I — I do! It’s <span class="qualifier">just</span>, I didn’t know if it was you or a burglar or s-someone who, uh, is a business associate of yours, or—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “An associate?” Her voice hardened. Skywarp looked up in time to see her smirk vanish. “They haven’t been bothering you, have they?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “N-no! Nobody from, uh, the business has come to see me. I didn’t say anything to anyone about them, either.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Alright. A good thing, too, or I’d have to pay a few visits myself.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp winced, but nodded. As he tried to get his wobbly legs underneath him, Slipstream stepped forward. She grabbed him by the forearms and pulled him upright. “There. Now, let’s get this sibling visit <span class="adverb"> properly </span> underway.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          <em>Oh, right... the visit. I almost forgot.</em> He scooped up his textbooks. “If I knew you were coming, I could have cooked dinner for the both of us.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “You?” Slipstream snorted. She slid past him and through the door, tossing words over her shoulder. “The last time you cooked, you almost set the stove on fire. While boiling <em>water.”</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>         Skywarp scrambled after her. “H-hey! I still made the pasta <span class="adverb"> eventually </span>! And everyone liked it, didn’t they?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...it <em>was</em> good linguini. Good enough for even Thundercracker’s ego, the fragger.”</p>
    <p>          “S-Slipstream!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “It’s true. <span class="adverb"> Seriously, </span>if he liked someone’s cooking other than his own, it was the best meal you ever made for us.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “At... at least my last was my best, then.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream stopped mid-step. “Yes,” she said after a long pause.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Silence descended on the two of them. Neither made optic-contact as Skywarp dropped his textbooks and Slipstream removed her hat. They edged around each other, his satchel rustling until he remembered to take it off. He fiddled with its leather strap. “I can fix something,” he murmured to it. “Sandwiches and tea, <span class="qualifier"> maybe</span>?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...fine. But let me help.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I can do it on my—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I know you can. <span class="qualifier"> Just </span> — I <em>want</em> to, alright?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp knew it was the closest to a “please” he’d hear from her. So, he pulled a block of cheese out of his icebox. Their optics met as he placed it in her palm. “Thank you.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          Slipstream scoffed, but she closed her fingers around it all the same.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Soon, they worked side by side in his kitchen. He sliced bread while she sliced cheese; he boiled water and she found tea bags in the back of his cupboards. She raised an optic ridge at the box. “Lavender? Doesn’t that make you sleepy?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...it does.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “You’re having trouble sleeping?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Um...”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          A hand grabbed his chin, tilting his face away from the bread. As he sputtered, Slipstream looked him over with a furrowed brow. “You’ve got bags under your optics.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I-it’s nothing, <span class="adverb"> really</span>!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “What‘s keeping you up?” Slipstream asked, but the kettle whistled. Skywarp jumped before jerking his chin out of her grasp. He fanned steam away from the kettle’s spout and ignored her stare.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “So, h-how’s the family?” he deflected, his voice too bright to be convincing.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream braced her hands on the countertop anyways, sighing. “Well, Starscream still extorts the Pit out of his clients. He has at least ten different schemes in the works, too.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp turned off the stove. “That... sounds like him. You won’t—?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I don’t <span class="qualifier">just</span> <em>let</em> him do stupid stuff, alright? It’s his thick helm that gets in the way. I need a club to bash some sense into him.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I know. I only worry he’ll reach too far and get hurt.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Good thing he can’t hear you. He’d say you gave up the right to worry when—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Slipstream,” he mumbled, shuttering his optics. “I <em>know.”</em></p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...oh. Right. Slag, ‘Warp. I’m—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          He waved her off, his optics still closed. “It’s fine. Just... what about the others?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream shuffled her feet. After a moment, she continued, “Thundercracker likes cracking his knuckles. <span class="qualifier">I think</span> he thinks it makes him look threatening, but it’s <span class="qualifier">just</span> slagging annoying.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “Does he try to do it with his brass knuckles on?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “Oh, Primus—“ She snorted mid-sentence, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “The look on his face when he forgets. It’s — it’s like — wait, look at me!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp cracked his optics open to see Slipstream’s bug-eyed expression. He burst into startled laughter, making her wheeze as well. Optics watering, he coughed, “And Sunstorm? Ramjet? How are they doing?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
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    <p>          Slipstream chuckled, pulling tea cups out of the cupboard. “One’s still a bootlicker and the other still lies like there’s no tomorrow. Thundercracker despairs over how they’re no good except as muscle.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “M-muscle? You mean—?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “I don’t think you <span class="adverb"> really </span> want to know, do you?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “...no.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>           “Good.” Slipstream patted him on the shoulder again. “Now, I’m famished. You?”</p>
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  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp nodded. After closing their sandwiches, he carried them to his kitchen table. Slipstream followed with two steaming cups of lavender tea, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know how you can stand the smell of this.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
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    <p>          “You get used to it,” Skywarp defended himself, shrugging.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “How much have you gotten used to it?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...Slipstream—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          A finger jabbed at his face. “I mean it! You look like you’re not sleeping—”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Can we <em>please</em> do this later? I haven’t eaten since noon today!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          ”What do you—?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          A growl from Skywarp’s stomach cut her off. He blushed. “<em>That’s</em> what I mean.”</p>
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</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream lowered her finger. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But don’t think you’ve wriggled out of this one, ‘Warp! We’re talking as soon as you finish eating.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “It’s not a big deal!” he stammered, sitting down at the table.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I’ll be the judge of that.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Sighing through his nose, Skywarp bit into his sandwich and chewed. It was no linguini, but it was food. He took bigger and bigger bites as he ate, almost wolfing it down. Slipstream ate slower and scrunched up her face at her first sip of tea. Still, she managed to find time to stare at him over the rim of her cup.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          The second Skywarp cleared his plate, Slipstream smacked a palm on the table. “Alright. Something’s keeping you awake at night.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          He sighed, setting his teacup down on the saucer. “It’s not much of anything, <span class="adverb"> really. </span>I’m just... anxious.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “And water is wet. You need to be more specific, ‘Warp.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Okay, okay.” Skywarp bit his lip. “I guess I’m... overwhelmed. Law school is a lot, even more than I thought it would be.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Didn’t you say that last year, and the year before—?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I know I did! But this is more work than those years combined, and I know it’s only going to get even harder! And I’m <span class="qualifier"> just </span> so busy and trying to find time for everything—”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream held up a hand, frowning. “Stop right there. Remind me what your grades are again?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “...I’m getting As and Bs.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Exactly. You’re <span class="adverb"> probably </span> getting better grades than most of your class, ‘Warp. Primus knows you earn them more than Starscream ever did, for that matter. You’re doing great.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “But it might not stay that way when it gets harder! What if I fall behind? What if I... if I’m not cut out for it?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “For being a lawyer, you mean?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp nodded, rubbing at his temples. “I... I know I can’t back out now. Not after training for so long and... well.” He swallowed hard. “I made my choices. I just... I don’t know if they w-were the right ones.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream peeled his hand away from his face. When his vision blurred, he realized he was on the verge of tears. He blinked them back as she squeezed his hand. “What makes you think they’re not right?” she asked, softer than he’d ever heard her.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I... I ruined our family to do this.” He thought back to that fateful, and final, Sunday dinner.</p>
    <p class="p1">
      <span class="s1">          <em>Skywarp twisted his napkin. “E-everyone? I have an announcement to make.”</em></span>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">All around the dining table, his family looked up from their plates of linguini. Starscream gestured with a pasta-speared fork. “Well? Let’s hear it.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I’ve decided to be a lawyer.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Thundercracker threw up his arms with a sudden whoop. “Ha! Pay up, losers!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Starscream, Sunstorm and Ramjet fished bills out of their pockets. Grumbling, they shoved them at Thundercracker. Slipstream rolled her optics at the unfolding scene.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“W-wait! You all bet on whether I’d become a lawyer?” Skywarp stammered.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I didn’t,” Slipstream sniffed. “Unlike some of us, I had to do actual work.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Your loss,” Thundercracker crowed, folding the bills into a neat pile. “I made twice your week’s salary just now, so there!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Shut up. ‘Warp, what kind of lawyer do you want to be?”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Criminal... or maybe civil. I’m not sure yet,” he murmured, shifting in his seat.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Starscream steepled his hands on the lace tablecloth. “Oh, you have plenty of time to decide. I’d be even happier if you followed in my footsteps, of course, but I’m certain you could be of use to us regardless.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Um—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Now, it’s just a matter of setting you up. Name the school and I’ll see to it that your application makes it to the top!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <span class="s1">  <em>“Oh, uh, I already applied to the school you attended. They accepted.”</em> </span>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Even better! All I need is a discreet chat with the same administrators, and you’ll have a quick and easy ride to graduating—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Skywarp squared his shoulders. “I d-don’t want any loopholes, actually.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Starscream frowned. “But that will slow your education track considerably. The sooner you graduate, the sooner you can join my practice and help with the—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“No.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“...’no’ what, exactly?”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <span class="s1">  <em>“I... I’m not joining the Decepticons.”</em> </span>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Silence fell over the table. There was no sound but the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“You’re not?” Thundercracker asked at last.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Why?!” Sunstorm demanded. “The Decepticons are a glorious organization, with plenty of opportunities for—!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“They aren’t!” Skywarp blurted. “Everyone here knows what the Decepticons do, what all of </span> <span class="s2">you</span> <span class="s1"> do for them! And I... I just c-can’t do those things, opportunity or not.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">It was Ramjet’s turn to roll his optics. “Pfft! Don’t tell me! You’re having a crisis of conscience, or some slag.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Skywarp didn’t reply.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“You... are you actually having a crisis? Are you serious?!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I think he is,” Thundercracker said, dumbfounded. Sunstorm gasped.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1">  <em>Slipstream looked between all of them, rapping her knuckles on the table. “Whoa, whoa. We definitely need to talk about this — and we </em> </span> <em> <span class="s2">will</span> <span class="s3"> — </span> <span class="s1">but this isn’t how. Everyone needs to—“</span> </em></p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Starscream’s fork dug so hard into the table it snapped.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Skywarp gave a full-body flinch. “I... Starscream, I’m—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Don’t. You. Dare,” Starscream hissed. “After everything we’ve done for you, after everything I’ve done for us, you can’t bear to get your little hands dirty? Are you </span> <span class="s2">scared </span> <span class="s1">you won’t be able to wash them clean? I bet that’s what it is.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">”Yeah,” Ramjet sneered. “You could never stop whining, could you?”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I...” Skywarp stuttered, his shoulders trembling. “I’m not—”</span></em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Don’t deny it, brother,” Sunstorm spat. “It has made you all the weaker.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“B-but—!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“This is our family, Skywarp! The business </span> <strong> <span class="s2">is </span> </strong> <span class="s1">our family!” Starscream exploded. He braced his palms on the table, pushing himself out of his chair. “We vowed to be together, until the end of the line! Are you breaking that promise?”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“N-no! I don’t want to! I just...” Skywarp squeezed his optics shut, fisting the napkin in his lap. “I don’t understand </span> <span class="s2">why </span> <span class="s1">the Decepticons mean so much to you, but I... I know now I can’t change that. I won’t try. All I w-want is for you to do the same f-for me with this. Please...”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Starscream loomed over him for a moment, silent. Then he turned on his heel and stalked towards the living room.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“W-wait! I—”</span></em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“I’ll have nothing to do with <strong>cowards</strong>,” he snapped, not even looking over his shoulder.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <span class="s1">  <em>“S-Starscream! Please, I—!”</em> </span>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“You made your choice,” Sunstorm said. “And so have we.” He and Ramjet shoved back from the table, leaving the room as well.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Thundercracker growled low in his throat. “So we’re not good enough for you? Am I not good enough for your presence?” he demanded, standing up.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“N-no! I just — I can’t do—”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">A hand grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Don’t give me that slag!”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“Thundercracker.” Slipstream shot to her feet, her voice frosty. “Put him down. </span> <span class="s2"><strong>Now</strong>.</span><span class="s1">”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“But—“</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">“You heard me.”</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p class="p1">
      <em> <span class="s1">Thundercracker dropped him. Skywarp landed hard on his tailbone, gasping. He received a final dirty look before his brother swept out of the room. Looking up from his place on the carpet, he saw Slipstream’s face. She bit down on her lower lip and shuttered her optics. Then her fist slammed into the table, rattling the silverware.</span> </em>
    </p>
    <p>         Skywarp came out of his recollection shaking all over. “I took myself away from everyone. I-it was selfish and h-horrible of me to do,” he whispered.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>         It took him a moment to realize Slipstream was shaking her helm. “No. You didn’t take yourself away, or some slag. They pushed you out. That was on them, ‘Warp.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “But—”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “<em>I</em> was sad and angry at first, and I still don’t understand it, but I understand this means a lot to you. Our idiot brothers couldn’t <span class="passivevoice"> be bothered </span> to do even that! Tell me how that’s your fault, ‘Warp. Try me.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp traced lines in the wood of the tabletop with his fingernail. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. After a minute, his shoulders relaxed. “...I can’t.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Exactly.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “I still miss them all, in a way,” he admitted. “I miss Sunday dinner and making it for everyone. I miss <span class="complexword"> all of </span> the noise and chaos. It’s too quiet here, without <span class="complexword"> all of </span> you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “For what it’s worth...” Slipstream trailed off, fiddling with her cufflinks. “I miss you at home, too. I miss your cooking and — and everything.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp started tearing up again. “Slipstream...”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Shut up. I’m not good at this sentimental slag, alright?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “It’s always good enough for me.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Gah! Don’t you make me cry, or I’ll stab you with the butter knife!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp let out a weak chuckle. He dabbed at his optics with a handkerchief, sniffling. He pretended not to notice Slipstream doing the same. “I just... I keep thinking of what Starscream said at that last meal.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          She stiffened. “Which thing? He said lots of things then.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “The bit about how I was a coward. I... I don’t feel like a coward for what I chose. Not anymore. But I don’t think he was wrong, either.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “What do you mean?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “You know me, Slipstream. I — I’m nervous, every day and all the time. I’m scared about tests. I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of myself because I don’t know if I can be who I want to be! If I’m such a coward, am I <span class="adverb"> really </span> cut out to be a lawyer?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “‘Warp. You spoke up at a table full of Deceptions, and told them all ‘no.’ You refused to join the mob because there was something more important to you. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “I — I <span class="passivevoice"> was terrified </span> the whole time!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “But didn’t you do it anyways?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “W-well... yes, but—“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Then you didn’t let your fear stop you. There’s a name for that, ‘Warp. It’s called slagging <em>bravery</em>!”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          Skywarp worked his jaw a few times, blinking. “Oh...”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “So for Primus’ sake, quit calling yourself a coward!“</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>         “I... I never thought about it like that before.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Slipstream leaned over the table. “Then frag Screamer, and frag the lot of them. They’re wrong and I’m right. I don’t want to hear you say that about yourself ever again.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “You... you know what?” Skywarp raised his helm. “I don’t think you will.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “About fragging time.” Slipstream snatched up her teacup and took a big, defiant slurp. She glared at him over the rim, but her growing smile ruined the effect. Skywarp took a moment to cherish the rare sight of his sister smiling. Not smirking or sneering, but smiling. He committed it to memory before smiling back.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Then, the clock chimed seven times, starting both of them. Slipstream lowered her teacup. “They’re expecting me across town soon.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “O-oh.” Skywarp leaned back in his chair. “Uh, don’t worry about the dishes. I can take care of them.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “You, telling me not to worry? Here comes the end of the world,” she snorted. Still, she pushed back her chair and stood, pulling her fedora on. Skywarp reached for their plates, only for her to grab him by the wrist. “Hey. I meant what I said today, alright?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I know,” he murmured. “And thanks. I <span class="adverb"> really </span> needed to hear it. <span class="complexword"> All of </span> it.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “That’s why I said it. But seriously...” She squeezed his wrist, meeting his optics from under the brim of her fedora. “After facing all of us down, you can do anything. Don’t let yourself think otherwise.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          “...I won’t. And Slipstream?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Hm?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          He placed his other hand over hers. “If... if it was their fault for pushing me out, it wasn’t yours.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Her fingers tensed underneath his hand. For a long while, Slipstream didn’t say anything. Then she said, “You think?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “I do. I’m not mad at you, so why should you be mad at yourself?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          “Oh, I don’t know. Lots of reasons? Like, not convincing them we could still be a family? That you didn’t have to go it alone?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          He shrugged. “I have you. And it’s like you said: frag the lot of them.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>          Slipstream looked up at him, startled. It took a moment for a slow grin to spread across her face. “Heh. I always thought you were the quickest on the uptake.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">
    <p>          Skywarp let go of her hand, blushing. After a final squeeze, she released his wrist. They stood together in awkward, but not unpleasant silence. Slipstream broke it by clearing her throat. “Well. See you around sometime soon?”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
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    <p>          He grinned. “I’ll try to have real pasta ready that time.”</p>
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    <p>          “I’ll hold you to that. Until next time, ‘Warp.”</p>
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    <p>          “Goodbye, Slipstream. Be safe!”</p>
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    <p>          “No promises!” she shot back, closing the door behind her.</p>
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    <p>          He chuckled after her. As he cleared the dishes from the table, he spotted his textbooks piled up in a nearby armchair. He didn’t feel a knot of doubt and insecurity build in his throat at the sight. He took a deep breath. Again, and with more feeling, he told himself, <em>I can do this.</em></p>
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    <p>          And this time, he believed it.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading this! Comments and constructive criticism are welcome, as I’m always looking to improve my writing!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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